


Idiosyncracies

by Thisisarealtagwhy



Category: Lucifer (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Enochian-Speaking Sam Winchester, Episode: s02e07 My Little Monkey, Gen, Hallucifer, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lucifer Morningstar finds out what it's like in supernatural verse, Past Torture, Post-Season/Series 07, Self-Harm, Torture, doesn't really change anything, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisisarealtagwhy/pseuds/Thisisarealtagwhy
Summary: There is a flash of light, warmth running through his veins, oddly familiar and yet almost as superlunary ashefelt. As it recedes, Sam is left standing in a side alley, stones grimy with age and covered in disgusting human excretions."I don't really know where to start... these worlds, they're idiosyncrasies of each other... they're similar and yet vastly different. Even you... you're much different to the Lucifer I know.""Well, Samuel, why don't you start from the beginning hmm?"





	1. Fake_Reality.exe

**Author's Note:**

> yeah you know i had to do it to 'em.  
> this is set after Lucifer reveals his face to Linda and post season 7 finale of Supernatural  
> In regards to Hallucifer.... i put him in because sure, castiel was able to take the craziness out of Sam but listen guys, he's spent more than his life span in the cage, that _has_ to have some repercussions.   
> uhhhh, this is finished, im uploading it all today probably, gonna smooth out some of the wrinkles in the chapters as i upload, they're kinda short bc i liked to change POV but i guess i could smash some together??   
> lemme know what you thought if you want and uhh, enjoy?

Sam doesn’t know how it happened, but he ended up in L.A. after Dean and Cas disappeared in a flash of Leviathan goo with Dick Roman.

He thought it might’ve been another celestial, but he hadn’t felt anything aside from warmth when he disappeared... it was pertaining to a similar energy... but not one felt since he had been with...  _him._

So, he bought himself some food with the little cash he had and began to work his mysterious appearance like any other case he’d been on.

(Even ignoring the figure in the corner of the room became as easy as he remembered it to be)

Unfortunately, he came up with jack and a side of squat from the street, mostly because there wasn’t anybody out at night, or the ones’ that were kept to themselves, addled by drugs and other problems.

Walking to the petrol station, hands shoved deep into his pockets he wonders who to ask the weird questions to.

Smiling to the cashier even as she eyes him dubiously he wanders up the aisles filled with miscellaneous junk food. Slipping a box of protein bars into his jackets while subtly aiming his back to the camera, Sam grabs a bunch of bananas.

The second thing he intended on buying was a newspaper but he freezes at the date at the top of the paper. “Um, excuse me, but could you tell me the date?”

The girl with her dark eyeliner and tattoos raises and eyebrow, “Coupl’a too many?”

“Somethin’ like that.” His lips quirk into a small grin.

“Iss the first November.”

Okay, that was 3ish months after the takedown of Dick Roman… but the year. “Sorry, what year?”

That earns him another odd look, “2016?”

Feeling the floor drop out from under him he forces himself to buy the two items and scrams.

Lucifer cackles alongside him, “Oh Sammy, I _wish_ I was here for this.”

He collapses in a side alley on top of some cardboard boxes, the panic attack finally taking him over, he can’t _breathe,_ it escapes him every time he tries to breathe in.

He’s in _2016,_ 4 years since the takedown of Dick Roman, without any idea of _what_ universe he’s in, _where_ Castiel or Dean are.

He has _nothing._

He’s 30+ hours from Illinois, his last known location and without a way to get back there.

Feeling dizzy from lack of breath, he tries to take some calming breaths.

“Castiel.” He puts his hands together in a long ago abandoned position, kneeling along the sleek stones covered in grime. “Cas, I don’t know whether you can hear me… whether you’re even still alive… but, um, I need help. I don’t know where I am, the year’s 2016 here... I hope you and Dean are alright. Please… please, look after Dean for me.” He takes a shaky breath. “I don’t know how I’m going to get home, but, tell Dean I’m alright okay? Tell him I’m sorry.”

His breath hitches at the back of his throat and a few tears slip down his face, he scrubs them away furiously.

Eventually, his breathing evens out and he opens one of the protein bars, “I need a plan, and to do that I need cash and a library.”

“Aw, look at that, you’ve even got yourself a little plan.” Lucifer chuckles. “You know how this ends though, don’t you Sammy?”

He thinks he does, Lucifer loves to remind him of what he had been aiming to do during Dean and his departure during the apocalypse, him in a pool of his own blood, Lucifer standing triumphant over his dead body, having finally figured which buttons to press.  

(Of course, Lucifer had no intentions of allowing him to escape so easily, bringing him back each time minus the wounds of his previous attempts)

But, instead of thinking like that, he orders a few credit cards, intending on beginning a new scam, and tries to find a place for the night.

“Well, Sammy, looks like you’re in a bit of a pickle here.” Lucifer comments, squatting down beside his shivering form. “Although, you’re used to the cold aren’t you, bunk buddy?” 

“Why are you still here?” He asks, shoving his hands into his armpits.

“Well, mostly because of you Sam-I-Am, you’re a masochistic bastard, aren’t you?” Lucifer grins.

He supposes that Lucifer’s right, which is annoying and depressing.

Instead of wallowing in his misery and maybe just going-to-sleep-and-never-waking-up, he finds the closest car tip.

Swallowing back the memories of Bobby’s car-yard he deftly picks the chain-link fences gate and walks along the lines of junk cars.

“What’s a subtle car?” Dean would probably hit him for daring to get anything aside from the best, but, the ’82 Ford Courier calls out to him.

It’s surprising to see one in here, one would presume it would be worth something, drawing from his limited knowledge learnt off Dean, he vaguely remembers it being one of the discontinued lines of American cars. 

Oh well, he knows enough about engines that it looks a-okay.

Hot-wiring it is as easy as it was to get into here, he pulls out onto the road, wincing at the rattly noise.

When he finally gets far enough away from the car yard he tries to find a bar to crash near for the night.

Now that he has a definitive plan, and a car, hopefully he’ll be able to figure out how he ended up being four years in the future.

He’s definitely going to try all of Dean’s mobiles, but maybe tomorrow when he isn’t as exhausted, the events of taking down Dick Roman are definitely catching up with him, along with his insomnia, a side effect of compulsive reading. 


	2. Try Again

Lucifer was not in a particularly great mood to be honest. It had only been a day since Linda had absolutely and utterly given way to him, showing him the true nature of humans – even those he trusted – when they saw his face.

His face was a disgusting sight, he knew it well enough having been marred with it the moment he decided to refuse to bow. He wielded it as much as a weapon as his hypnotism, to destroy the humans free will until their primal urges take over, showing him how disgusting  _they_ are once more. 

Oh, he remembered becoming like this, struck down by Father, burned in the holy fucking light. And it had hurt, hurt like agony, as much as being outcast by the rest of the heavenly host had.

So, what if he hadn’t wanted to bloody well kneel at humanity’s feet, he had an ounce of respect for himself for crying out loud.

Thus Lucifer, the Light bringer of heaven had been shunned, condemned to rule hell for all eternity. It was just a little bit bloody unfair of his Father to do such a thing, but he supposes that he had plenty of time to work out his issues down in hell along with the cesspool of human activity. 

But now, humans interested him so, _so_ much, such as Detective Decker, and… Linda. 

They created stuff so that they could  _explore,_ their interest and curiosity will eventually be the end of them, especially when they discover other inhabitable planets. Of course, Lucifer was well aware that many other versions of Earth existed, in this universe, they may even have life on it. It's been a while since he's been to heaven so he doesn't really know they status of these planets. 

(He hopes they've been destroyed because otherwise he'll bloody do it himself)

He sculls the bourbon, electing to take grip of the entire bottle, taking heavy gulps from it.

He’s been wandering the streets of LA by himself, the bourbon bottle hanging loosely from his grip, he could get any drug he so much desired with almost a snap of the fingers, but tonight, with the amount of alcohol he’s consumed?

The buzz inside his head is enough to keep him occupied for the time being, soon after, the bottle joins the various trash of the streets, he needs some more otherwise the pleasant buzz he's chasing will fade away with his inhuman tolerance. 

On one particular level, he can admit that he is looking for a fight, he wants to revel in somebody’s guts being ripped from their body, to choke the sinners that will soon enough become accustomed to their treatment. He wants to  _bathe_ in the blood of sinner, to watch triumphantly as he pulls out their hearts, still beating, from their chest. He wants to rip their deepest, darkest desires from their minds, to torture them with the truth of their very own existence.

He wants to revel in the gore and the lowest bases of society, to cover himself in the lust of their sins, he _needs_ to remember how terrible humanity is.

It’s what landed him deep within hell in the first bloody place isn’t it?

So, he meanders through the decrepit remains of the gaudy city until he happens upon a most unbecoming liquor store, neon light flickering sporadically in the pervading darkness of the night. 

He walks – more so stumbles – into the shop which appears exactly as the front portrayed it; faded signs for beer and vodka pasted to the walls, mildew and mould growing from a steady patch in the corner of the roof, alcohol haphazardly placed with little to no order on the shelves that are sinking underneath the weight.

And the clerk missing his front teeth is clearly not in the mood to be dealing with yet another drunk, “Gonna haf’ ta ask ya ta leaf’.” The man grinds out.

Walking as steady as he can to the front of the store, he pulls the clerk close, until he can see the pieces of what look to be tomato sauce stuck inside his thick mane of greying hair. “Now, you listen bloody closely, what is it you desire, hmmm? Your deepest, darkest want in the world?”

The man relaxes, entering the trance like state that most mortals tend to fall in when faced with his seductiveness, “Ma sis’er.” It’s whispered out, syllables hissing between the hideous gap, disgusted, Lucifer drops the man.

“And when you make people like this, I really have to wonder why you wanted _me_ to bow down, huh?!” He glances skyward, uncaring of the scene he’s making.

“Tha’s it, outta ma store or I’ll shoot ya.” The clerk says, pulling out a shotgun from beneath the counter.

“Oh yes, shoot me, like that’s going to hel-”

The man pulls the trigger, cutting Lucifer off, “What the bloody hell was that for? This suit is _Armani_.” He stresses, looking at the gaping hole in the outer most piece of the authentic suit.

“D-demon.”

“Close.” Lucifer admits and stalks forward, leaning forward to the clerk despite his attempts to flee. And with that, the control on his face slips and the man begins to scream.  

Slipping back into the night as his victim succumbs to the sheer insanity accompanied by Lucifer’s face, he feels bittersweet, yet another human has failed him.

 


	3. Synapse Loop

Sam startles awake, his Cage addled mind taking a few seconds to re-accustom itself to its new reality. Is this actually reality? Who knows. He  _thinks_ it is, but how could he ever be sure?

“Wakey wakey Sammy, wouldn’t want to be asleep for too long.” Lucifer whispers in his ear. "Might miss something important."

“Shut up.” He says, lamenting the fact that pain doesn’t stop the bane of his existence anyway.

He goes through the ritual that seems to have followed through from a world with Dean and Cas, to this weird one. Checking the Taurus he’d managed to land his hands on, he ensures it’s ready to be used at any given time and then takes stock of his meagre food supply.

The hotel he’s rented out looks almost exactly like every other one he’s been in for his whole life, apparently someone had been a fan of flamingos and proceeded to puke them onto every crevice of the hotel room.

He wanders into the hotel lobby, securing the newspaper, apparently there was an attack last night on a local liquor store, according to the paper, the clerk attacked had claimed he’d been in cohorts with the devil himself. 

Lucifer snorts beside him, “Idiots, wouldn’t know if the real devil was among them until I destroyed them.”

It's the closest thing to something supernatural aside from himself in LA and he sure as hell ain't going to ignore it. 

He doesn’t deign Lucifer with a response, the location is pretty close, “It’s a hunt isn’t it? Yippee, we’ll be able to work it together. You and me Sam-I-Am. Just like before am I right? We'll have a _blast._ ”

"Shut up, there is no  _us_ in this equation,  _you're_ just sticking around because-"

"Because deep down, you  _want_ me here, you  _need_ something familiar, isn't that right Sam?" Lucifer cuts in, eyes glowing menacingly. 

He turns away from the devil and returns to his room, he needs to rent a suit, and print of a couple of fake ID’s – shouldn’t be too hard considering he was in the shady part of LA.

It doesn’t take too long, just as he suspected, and soon enough, he’s on his way to the crime scene, the suit remains in the back of his car for now, he just needs to scope out the situation, LA cops are harder than most other states. 

“What happened?” He asks to one of the women at the crime scene, she looks like she would be a gossiper.

As predicted, “It’s terrible, the clerk of the store suddenly screamed last night and before long, he got taken away, I’ve heard he’s in some kind of special ward of the hospital, where all the crazies go.”

“Huh, any ideas as to why he snapped?” Sam asks.

"Apparently, there was a demon in the store, withstood getting shot." The woman leans in conspiratorially. "If you ask me, I think he slipped the wrong kind of happy pills into his normal concoction and hallucinated the whole thing."

"Hm, thanks." He says, turning back to the crime scene, he doesn't  _think_ that he needs to enter, not while the police are still all over it. 

“No problem, hun.” The women turns back to the crime scene as well.

“Do you know which hospital?”

Getting into see one Charles Ray was a piece of cake, flash an award winning grin, coupled with some form of identification as a psycho-analyser working for the LAPD and he was facing the ward Charles was kept in.

“Brings back memories doesn’t it?” Lucifer asks, a disgustingly nostalgic tone hueing his tone.

He strides confidently through the wards, trying his best to ignore the reminders of his own time within the mental institution.

Finally, the orderlies escorting him, direct him to a plastic bench in the common room, “Charles Ray?”

“Tha’s me.” A scruffy, greying man, missing two teeth huffs out, arms folded onto the table top.

“I’m here to ask you a couple of questions about last night’s… attack.” He edges carefully.

The man glances around, searching for the orderlies, “I know I’m fuckin’ crazy, bu’ I know wha’ I saw don’ I?”

“Of course Mr. Ray tell me what exactly how it was.” Sam adds, clipboard in front of him.

“Well, i’s late, ‘bout closin’ time, this drunk’ wanders in, he’s lookin’ for some booze, but somethin’ ain’ right so I tell ‘im ta leave y’know?” He leans forward, still keeping an eye out.

“Mhm.”

“Then it ge’s weird, he… hypnotised me n’ then when I shoot him he brushes that shit off, like I hadn’ shot a round into his heart. N’ then he gets all close n’ personal and…”

“And then?” He prompts when Charles gets lost in his memories.

“His _face_ jus’ _peels_ off, goes all red and puffy, like a fresh burn.” Charles admits, voice scarcely above a whisper. “He weren’t like that when he came in, and I certainly ain’ to nuffin, but…”

“Do you have any idea who he was?”

“I think he was an owner of some big club or somethin’ like that.” Charles shrugs. "He reckons he was wearin' some fancy sui' company n' looke' half a second away from suing ma ass, but the fing is tha' instead he tried ta kill me."

“Right, and finally Mr. Ray, did you notice anything strange that night? Flickering lights? Smell of rotten eggs, maybe some cold spots.” He asks. 

Charles is already shaking his head, “That face was the weirdes’ thing of the night.”

“I see, thank you for your time, you’ve been very helpful.” Sam stands, shaking the man’s sun wrinkled hand.


	4. 罪 // Sin

The night following the sheer utter stupidity of his escapades, he finds himself skulking in Lux, nursing a few fingers of whiskey, he needs to lay low until the police stop searching for him.

And then, the scruffy except not scruffy in the best kind of ways man walks into Lux, long hair, beard unshaven for weeks perhaps. He looks like exactly what Lucifer needs for a good distraction, as he sits on the bar stool, Lucifer sidles over to him.

The bartender places a beer in front of him, because despite wearing a suit and the suitable green button down, the man reeks of lumberjack outfitness. “I didn’t order anything.” He says, eyeing the drink as if it personally offended his grandmother.

“You’re right, complements of the house.” Lucifer smiles _devilishly_ and leans down next to the man, “For you _are_ quite a strapping fellow, what name have you been given?”

“Sam.” He replies, taking a sip of the cold beverage, and allows Lucifer privy to the sight of some form of blade in his coat sleeve.

“Tell me Samuel,” Lucifer leans in closer, the allure of his charms turned to full blast, “what is it you desire most in this world?”

The man glances at him, confounded, “Is that something you usually ask people you’re trying to seduce?”

Lucifer leans back, astounded, “It doesn’t work on you?”

Samuel shrugs, “Don’t know what ‘it’ is.”

He sits back in his stool, the rare occasion that it worked, excusing Chloe, Dan had succumbed to his charm. “So, what brings you to the city of angels, Samuel?”

“It’s just Sam.” The man says, he sighs heavily, “I don’t know what brought me here. Just ended up here I guess.”

“Oh yes, I understand that quite well.” He says, thinking of the millennia spent in hell.

“Thanks for the beer...?” Samuel stands.

“Lucifer. Morningstar.” He grins.

The man chuckles airily, “That a stage name?”

He frowns, “God given I’m afraid.” The man freezes slightly, eyes shifting to something behind him.   

Samuel is tenser than a guitar string, Lucifer thinks, perhaps a religious mortal? “Thanks for the drink, Lucifer, but I’ll be leaving now.” Lucifer notes the little stutter on his name.

And he leaves the bar, usually Lucifer doesn’t like to stalk people, it’s an unbecoming habit, but that man… Samuel, he is intriguing, thus he downs the final drops of bourbon and follows the tall man out of Lux.

The car he is driving is cheap, Lucifer thinks, as the man climbs in behind the Ford Courier. Still, a surprising choice of a four-wheel-drive in a big city like this.

The valet hands him his keys with utmost respect and gestures to his car, Lucifer sighs, he’ll probably be spotted in this car, but he also knows that Samuel is most definitely not in the right frame of mind.

Lucifer tails him all the way to the cheap motel room until he stumbles out, entering the crappy room.  

The hotel room is heavily warded, Lucifer can feel it well before he reaches the door. It’s kind of excessive, especially the five demon traps underfoot.

He must be a hunter, but no hunter has _ever_ tried to hunt him. This calls for an interesting experience.

But why the violent reaction when Samuel discovered who he was? Amateur?

Deciding to play his hand he knocks politely on the door, Samuel opens it, one arm tense enough for the blade to slide out. “What are you doing here?”

“Do you greet all of your visitors like this?” He asks playfully, it would be awfully convenient if the man was to attack him, he truly is ready to die. 

“Only uninvited ones.” Samuel replies.

“I mean you no harm Samuel, may I come inside?” Lucifer asks, hands in front of him placatingly.

“I’m Sam, not Samuel,” He says, his eyes glaze over briefly before he adds, “Fine, come in.”

Lucifer complies, glancing at the sparse furnishings, on the table is a barely touched salad and two beers sitting there.

“Beer? Coffee?” Samuel asks, taking another beer out of the fridge for himself.

“Beer is the piss of alcohol.” Lucifer says in distaste, Samuel raises an eyebrow before shrugging and giving him a glass of water, it looks normal enough, but when tasted, it reeks of holiness.

Holy water then.

“What are you doing here? Why did you follow me?” Samuel asks, leaning forward.

“Well, you quite intrigued me back there Sam,” Lucifer admits, “it’s not every day people resist my hypnotic powers.”

There it is again, the little tilting of the head at what he presumes is invisible, perhaps this hunter finally snapped. “That isn’t usually a reason to stalk someone.”

“I was merely doing it in the name of knowledge.” Lucifer admits, “Curiosity never did kill the cat in my humble opinion.”

“Well, I don’t know why I can resist your ‘hypnotic powers’.” Sam says with a sigh.

“That’s quite a shame, but I guessed that. Just, humour me this, Sam, does my name offend you in some way?”

“It’s not every day that someone willingly calls themselves the devil himself.” Sam admits, taking a hefty gulp of that _god-awful_ beer.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right, I do have to ask you, why become a hunter in the first place?” _That_ elicits a response – not quite the right one – as Sam flinches again.

“What do you mean?” Sam asks, hand on his pant leg.

He smiles charmingly, a sense of recklessness descending over him. “Perhaps due to the runes and wards in this room.”

Sam stumbles away from him, knocking over his chair and the blade within his sleeve slides out, reflective and beautiful in all of its’ grace.

“Where did you get that?” He growls, dangerously low and Samuel’s gaze snaps to his. “Where did you get that?” He snarls, red seeping into his vision, he doesn’t normally care about his brothers and sisters being slaughtered, but it just makes him itch to make this mortal _pay._

 _He_ killed Uriel, and that almost destroyed him.

Sam raises the blade and Lucifer allows his guise to fall away from his face, he expects terror, maybe even a little ‘what the hell?’ but instead, Samuel lunges at him with the blade.

“Not happening.” He growls and picks the human up by the neck and all but tosses him against the wall.

He kicks his feet helplessly and Lucifer watches as the light fades from his eyes… and releases him. “You’re no good dead, I need to know which of my siblings you killed.”

He’s so busy with the man who has killed angels that he completely forgets that Linda has cancelled his session.


	5. Bloodlust

Sam wakes up strapped down to an expensive chair, his arms are bound _well._ The mark of someone who knows  _just_ how tight so that his blood circulation is simply painful rather than numbing. 

There’s a smirking woman crouching down next to him and to be honest, it doesn’t take a genius to be able to tell that she’s probably a demon.

“Wakey wakey Sammy.” Lucifer whispers in his ear and he flinches harshly, Lucifer, his constant in life.

It makes sense now that the little pieces of silver and bronze he’d been subtle enough to touch Lucifer with hadn’t worked, after all, shit like that won’t help you when you’re dealing with the Devil in the details. But that didn't explain how he managed to get past all of the runes and wards, they were specifically designed to keep the devil out and he had strutted in like it was nothing? It just didn't add up. 

L.A, the city of Angels, what _irony_ that the _real_ Lucifer is here, and in a _new_ meatsuit. 4 years in the future, how screwed up can the world become in 4 years? And where the hell is Dean? He’d already tried calling every last known number of Dean’s and just about everyone else he could think of.

Nothing.

The entire place he’s in is lavish and clearly the result of a very rich man. The entire bar is filled with expensive alcohol, sleek black surface complimenting the back-light of the alcohol. But, it just reeks of sex, sin and bad choices. He’s pretty sure he can see a bong next to one of the bookshelves too.

It seems like the kind of place Dean would have if he was wealthy enough, and isn’t that just a _thought_?

“Samuel! You’re awake!” The _real_ Lucifer walks into the room, decked in an elegant, expensive suit. “Now, here’s how this works, you answer correctly and nothing happens, if you lie or omit certain points, Mazikeen here can do what she wants to you, deal?”

“Whatever she wants huh? Well, I wouldn’t suppose that’d be much considering she’s a demon.” He spits.

The woman smiles and her skin melts away to give her a terrifying zombie-esque look about her, “I think I’ll start with his fingers.”

“Yes, well, why are you here in L.A?” Lucifer asks, withdrawing a flask.

Sam just stares at him, Lucifer jerks his head to Mazikeen who snaps his pinkie finger without compunction. He flinches at it and lets out a small cry, but comparatively? To the shit he’s been through even topside? Nothing.

“That’s new.” Lucifer frowns as does Mazikeen who starts to finger a few of the daggers around her belt.

Sam glances up confused, he should’ve realised _just why_ he felt nothing despite the pain radiating through his arm. Sure, he could feel it, it just didn’t _hurt._ “What did you expect?”

Lucifer purses his lips and nods to Mazikeen again, she withdraws one of the daggers around her belt and lifts it to his arm, slicing effectively. “Did you know that there are certain points in the human body that allow you to be stabbed but not bleed out?”

Smirking she slides a thinner blade into his neck, stopping short of his air passage - they still want him to be able to talk, of course. He knows this song and dance though, Lucifer had done it to him himself, but he should already know that?

It’s not as bad as slowly being cooked alive with Lucifer as a chef though, or being cut up and stuffed into boxes, or being forced to watch as his brother was slowly burned alive. “Why does this pain not affect you?”

“You would know, you’re the reason why.” He gurgles out, but he’s mostly confused, was this just another mind game?

“I have no clue as to what you are referring to.” Lucifer says and Sam sighs.

The two exchange a glance as Sam closes his eyes. “It’s been sometimes since I’ve been down there...”

“Down there?” Mazikeen asks with a tilt of the head.

“Do you mean hell?” Lucifer asks incredulously.

The elevator dings and Sam twists his head to watch a blonde-haired woman walk in, she’s wearing an ankle long coat and Lucifer gives him a glance and whisks himself over to the woman.

“Exorcizamus te omnis immundus spiritus-”

“I can tell you now sweetie, that your Latin words won’t work on me, this body? It’s not real.” Mazikeen smirks, she deftly plucks the blades out of him. “Now, the only reason I agreed to help Lucifer was so that I could torture you.”

“Torturing me will get you nowhere.” Sam smirks, “I’ve been tortured for the devil himself for a thousand years, what can a pesky demon hold to that?”

Mazikeen growls, “Is this some kind of sex thing I walked in on, if it is, thank you for not doing it at home.” The blonde says to the demon and Sam glances at her pleadingly. “This is a kinky sex thing, right?”

Lucifer coughs loudly before Sam can protest and says, “Samuel, meet Chloe Decker, a homicide detective of the LAPD.”

He sighs internally, great, cops were the last thing he needed, and it was clear Lucifer knew that too “All consensual I assure you.”

“Splendid.” Lucifer claps his hands and gestures to Mazikeen to untie him.

Sam stands and almost falls right back over, the pain that he had been ignoring coming back like a wall and he feels _exhausted._ The demon catches him and Chloe, the detective, catches sight of his hands, and the cut on his arm

“Oh my god.” _He had nothing to do with it._ “What happened to your finger? Or your arms?”

Sam shrugs, he’s feeling a little light-headed now and the demon deposits him on the expensive lounge, “I’m into pain.”

He thinks he can hear Lucifer snicker as the world slides in and out of focus.

“Oops, I think we took too much blood.” Mazikeen idly comments as Sam stumbles to the ground.

 “Don’t leave me here Sammy.” Lucifer in the form he’s most used to complains, twisting his archangel blade in his hands. “It’s so boring without you.”

“Shut up Lucifer.”


	6. Memoriesloop_666

Lucifer sighs again as Maze lugs the giant over her shoulder, it was apparent that the man was experiencing hallucinations but the question was why, he said that he had been to hell, but Lucifer would remember if _he_ tortured such a man.

But he had been so certain!

“I hope that you two didn’t do what I thought you did to that poor man.” Chloe says, they were sitting outside Sam’s room.

They hadn’t been able to find any files on him anywhere, but he hadn’t eaten or slept enough in at least a week. And if he had been sleeping, it hadn’t been rejuvenating.

“Depends on what you think we did.” Lucifer says, winking.

She shakes her head, “According to the nurse, they’ve had to keep on upping his dosage, nothing they use is working on him, I'm pretty sure he's an addict of some kind."

Right on cue they hear something shatter, walking around the partition Samuel gives the nurses hell by ripping out his IV’s with desperation, “Get off of me!  _Ag, niiso!_ "

And suddenly, he holds up a shard of glass in a new light and before Chloe can even blink, Lucifer is in there, grabbing the man’s wrist, he allows some of his true face to seep through and Samuel begins to cry. 

In a language he hasn't spoken in a milleneum, he whispers to the man upon the bed, " _Page, elasa biab kures._ " 

“What language is that?" Chloe asks, glancing at Maze. 

"The language of the angels, enochian." Maze says, eyes distant.

The nurses swarm him as he calms down, attempting sedation.

“So, do you remember him in hell?” Lucifer says, the demon hasn’t actually found out that he showed Linda his true face, which is probably the only reason she’s still around – that and the particular allure of torturing humans for money never seems to fail to bring Mazikeen to him.

She shakes her head, “No, I personally think he’s insane.”

“Well that much is obvious, but he’s insane for a reason.” Lucifer says.

“Whatever the reason, I doubt he’ll be leaving here any time soon.” Chloe says, looking at the man’s prone form. “Are you going to hang around here? Or are you going to help out with a case?”

As much as he would love to go with the detective he shakes his head, “I will remain here.”

“It seems my mother owes me a visit.” Lucifer murmurs to himself and reaches into his pocket for his phone, “Yes, hello, I was wondering whether you’d be able to come to the L.A. Private. Yes, I know that’s a hospital, okay, bye.”

“You called _her_ of all people?” Maze asks scathingly.

“Of course, she _is_ the goddess of all creation.” He replies, eyeing the man on the bed.

Not even twenty minutes later, his mother approaches the trio, “This better be good.”

“Yes, mother, could you be a dear and tell me what’s up with that chap in there.” She looks at him long and hard before sighing.

“I suppose,” she slips into the room and places a hand on his chest, after a few tense seconds she returns, looking disturbed. “He’s not from this universe.”

“What? How is it possible that there’s more than one universe?” Maze asks, incredulous.

“Well, I doubt a mere demon would understand such a thing. But, the decisions that shape this world make other universes.” Mother replies, causing Mazikeen to growl at the insult to her intelligence.

“Is there any way to return him? I suppose he has family back there.” Lucifer asks.

“Hang on, that’s not the only thing.” She says, raising a perfectly manicured hand, “His soul _has_ been touched by another Lucifer, his very soul is at least a thousand years old.’’

They both let out a weird kind of gasp, “He was telling the truth? Did his soul _deserve_ it?” Lucifer asks.

She shakes her head, “He has a spot in heaven, actually, it’s a _conjoined_ one, do you know how rare that is?”

Lucifer and Maze give her identical blank looks, even when he was in heaven he hadn’t bothered to peer on human lives in the afterlife, except for the rare occasion when he’d watch Uriel… give his grand speech to the pesky few good souls in the world.

“It only happens once in millennia, it means that he has a _soulmate._ However, I think he was supposed to bring around the end of the world.”

“But he didn’t?” Lucifer asks.

“No, though, there’s something else, he has demon blood.”

“How is that even _possible_?” Maze asks.

“I’m unsure, unfortunately, I don’t think we can take him back without a working angel, which brings me to my next point. Did he mention _who_ brought him here?” Mother asks.

“No, he didn’t.”

They mull it over in silence, “Call me when you can find me a working angel.”

“Anyway, I best be off, crimes to solve, all that jazz.” Lucifer claps his hands together and leaves.

“Wait, what do we do with him?” Maze jerks her head to the man lying down.

Lucifer sighs, “I suppose you’re right, I can ask the Detective to pull a few strings and try and get him to come with me.”

Tapping his phone a few times he coughs to clear his throat, “Detective!”

“Are you still at the hospital?” She asks, voice hesitant.

“Yes, what is wrong?” Lucifer asks, noticing the hesitance in her voice.

“Um, it’s… nothing, don’t worry, just stay there will you?” Her voice breaks a little.

“Chloe, where are you? Allow me to pick you up.” He says.

She takes a deep breath and says, “No, I’ll be fine, there’s just some digging I want to do.”

“If you insist, Chloe, anyway, I have one request, can you procure the correct documents to allow Samuel… to be released with me?” He asks, despite knowing that it is perhaps, too selfish.

He hears her brief moment of amusement over the phone and smiles, happy that she found a ray of light amongst her sadness. “Sure, what is your relation to him?”

“Not entirely sure yet, I just know that he needs to come with us.”

Chloe sighs over the phone, “Fine, I’ll call in some favours, see what I can do to get him released with you.”

“You’re too kind Detective, I certainly owe you for this, perhaps I can swing by later?” He asks, tone all too hopeful.

“No, it’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you later alright?” She says, and this time she sounds slightly better.

“Yes, of course, see you later.” He ends the call and returns to the room.

“I’m unsure as to why he was brought to this universe.” Mother says as soon as he re-enters, “I’m also unsure as to how to return him.”

“Then, I guess he’s stuck with me until we figure out a way.” Lucifer says.

His mother snorts, “Why on Earth would you house a human that would prefer to kill you?”

Lucifer shrugs, “No self-preservation instincts I suppose.”

Maze sighs, “Well, if you turn up dead, I’ll hunt him to the ends of the Earth and then some.”

“Thank you Mazikeen, now, why don’t you go see what’s bothering the Detective while I look after this miscreant hmm?”

“Sure, see you later.” She stalks out of the white hell.

“Well then mother, I wish you well, now, off you trot.” He shoos the goddess of creation away and watches as she frowns at the phrasing.

“I shall be seeing you soon, son.” She nods.

“And you mother.”

He returns to the room, pulling up a chair, the Detective had sworn that she would have the man released and he trusted her word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'ag niiso' is roughly no, get away.   
> 'page, elasa biab kures' rest, you are here 
> 
> smth like that, idk, enochian is weird.


	7. Hiraeth

Sam was in hell, he could tell, this wasn’t where he was supposed to be, some part of him wanted to be back home with Dean and Cas, beer in hand. 

But Cas and Dean were dead and he was in… he didn’t know where he was.

Maybe it all was simply a concoction, something Lucifer stuck him in, but no… it couldn’t be, as Dean had said, the pain up here was different. Castiel had ensured that he could effectively differentiate reality and fiction that Lucifer could conjure up himself.

But hell, even Lucifer could’ve made that up, have changed the name of pain, changed the way it affected him.

Gasping awake, he dimly hears somebody tell him to calm down. “Get away!”

“Samuel, you are in a hospital, the date is November 7th, 2016. You had quite the lack of sleep, I’m afraid.” That silky-smooth voice, he knew it.

“Wait, 2016?” That couldn’t be right, it was 2012 the last time he checked, which was admittedly a while ago, but certainly not four years. He feels panic sweep through him again and this time, there’s nothing the smooth voice can do.

“Sam!”

Where’s Dean? Where’s Cas? Where is _he_?

And suddenly, the world comes into view and the not-Lucifer crowds his vision, along with two nurses, who look ready to apply anaesthesia to him, “No, it’s fine!”

“Sam Smith, you are in L.A Private hospital, you were brought here after sustaining blood loss in... a sex game, do you understand?” One of the nurses ask.

He nods, “Okay,” She turns to- _Lucifer_! And says something, not that Sam can hear over the pounding of blood in his ears, and suddenly everything comes flooding back. He wonders what was so serious they had to take him to hospital for.

“Dammit. Would you allow us a moment?” The Devil asks the nurses with a seductive smile, they both scurry out and Sam’s heart beats quicker.

“Get away from me.” He whispers it, it’s better if only he gets hurt in this encounter, nobody needs to know that Satan is in the hospital.

“Samuel, I assure you that I am not the Lucifer you are familiar with, it appears you’ve been transported to another universe by a means I am unfamiliar with.” Lucifer says calmly, hands in front of him placatingly.

Sam snorts, “I’d know if I was thrown through any windows with sigils on them.”

“I’m sorry?” Lucifer looks genuinely thrown and Sam remembers that Lucifer was already in the cage by that stage, if he wasn’t, well, he’s here isn’t he?

“Doesn’t matter…  I don’t know how the _hell_ I’m going to get home. Wait, if you’re the alternate universes’ Lucifer, what are _you_ doing here? How did you get out of the cage?”

“The cage? I’m afraid I don’t understand.” He genuinely does look confused at the word. “Hell wasn’t a cage, I was free to leave when possible, provided I return, until, well, I didn’t.”

“Alright then, I don’t suppose you have wings by any chance?”

Lucifer _bristles,_ “Why on earth would you presume I would keep those blasted things?”

Ah, so, another Lucifer mad at God, great. “Doesn’t matter. Can you get me out of here? I guess I can figure out something to get me home.”

“About that… Why don’t you come work at my bar until we figure out how to get you home, my mother-”

“Mother?” The implications…

“Yes, it takes two to give birth to the universe, the Goddess of creation.” Lucifer explains.

“Jesus.”

“Wrong deity, I’m afraid.”

Doubly great, a Lucifer with a sense of humour. “If I come with you, you swear to help me find my way home?”

“Well, I suppose you could make a dea-”

“Forget it, I’m not stupid enough to make a deal.”

Lucifer’s lips curve downwards, “And why is that? All you’ll owe me is one measly favour.”

It’s Sam’s turn to frown, “A favour? And your soul doesn’t go to hell for owing the Devil a favour?”

“No of course not, that would be ridiculous, _no_ soul goes to hell for favours withstanding, they go to hell because of their _guilt_.”

“Well shit,” He pauses, weighing up his options, firstly, he could go off on his own and likely never find a way back to his world, which, unfortunately, held neither Cas nor Dean. On the other hand, though, he could work for the literal Devil who was very much different from the Lucifer _he_ knew, intimately. _And,_ that would mean that he gets the bonus of money _plus_ the help of the literal _goddess of creation._

And he really couldn’t get home on his own, there was absolutely _zero_ signs of supernatural activity besides Lucifer and his demons.

Finally, he sighs, “What other options do I have here? I suppose I’ll just have to make a deal.”

Sam leans in, under the pretext of knowing firsthand how demon deals are made, “Ahem, what are you doing?”

“Sealing the deal with a kiss?”

“If you were that desperate for a piece of this you could have just _asked_ you know.” Lucifer says.

“Huh, that’s how we do it in my universe.” Sam muses before taking the extended hand, there’s no way he _actually_ wants to kiss this devil – or any version of the devil.


	8. Hollow Bones

Chloe was not having the best day, she learnt that the man who had _killed_ her father was being released today, wanting to spend his last moments with his family, applying for that reason, and given that he had a clean record in prison, his wish was granted.

And to top it, she had walked in on Maze and Lucifer doing… something to that man, she figured that it was something kinky in the beginning, but ‘Sam’ looked… there was something in his eyes that reminded her of the haunted eyes of veterans returning from wars. 

And yet he was alive, skin almost buzzing with the liveliness. 

But, she trusted Lucifer, trusted him more than herself sometimes. Not that she’d tell him that, no need to inflate his head any more than he managed by his lonesome.

So, she left Lucifer at the hospital with the mystery man and sent Dan out on duty to help find the man that killed Joe Fields and everyone in the transport van.

Suddenly her phone begins to buzz accompanied by ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ playing obscenely loudly. “Detective! How lovely it is to talk to you, I’m going to drop Samuel at home before making my way to the station, do we have a case yet?”

“No, no, there’s no need for you to come in, there’s something I need to do.” She says, her voice _barely_ quivering, remarkably, he picks up on it and replies;

“Nope, I’m afraid I’m already on our way, Samuel’s home was on the way.” Lucifer says, and now that she thinks about it, she can hear the rushing wind and the sound of his car.

“Are you… are you talking to me and driving?” She asks, incredulous.

There’s a hefty pause, “Perhaps.”

“Lucifer, I swear to god I will write you up a fine if you don’t hang up now.” She threatens.

“He’s not listening.” A sigh, “Fine, but I’m already here.”

A click and a minute later, he walks in the front door, she _really_ doesn’t need him here, Dan’s still pestering her, asking if she’s okay, despite having already made the arrest of the man who killed Joe Fields.

“Lucifer, I don’t need you here right now, this is a personal day for me.” She says, sifting through the files provided to her by the Warden.

“Well, as your friend I figure that you needed some emotional support, and well, I’m free.” Lucifer says.

“Seriously, I don’t need you right now.” She says, trying her best to ignore the hurt flashing across his face.

“As you wish.” And with that he leaves, only the scent of his cologne following him.

She misses the way his eyes smoulder for a hesitant moment, too focused on the case in front of herself. “Come on Chloe, think.”

He was dead, but…

Bringing the files back with her, she picks up Trixie.

“What kind of a job are you going for dressed like that?” She asks Maze who is dressed in a skimpy maid costume.

“Pre-school teacher.”

She barks a laugh at that, “Decker, are you alright? Lucifer would come over but he’s busy showing his latest worker the ropes.”

“Samuel?”

“Yeah, he’s staying with Lucifer for a while.” She says and Chloe frowns at that.

“How come?”

Maze shrugs, “He needs the work and Lucifer offered.”

“Uh huh.”

Maze shifts uneasily, “Anyway, what’s up? You can talk to me okay? I usually hate the touchy-feely crap but… you’re my friend, and I hate seeing you cut up like this.”

“Truth be told… my father’s murderer was released from prison today for his granddaughter’s christening, except, he was killed, executed in his release van, all fingers point to Rodney Lam, but something’s wrong, my gut tells me so.”

“Well, follow your gut decker.” Maze says. "Generally, it's pretty strong." 

There’s a knock on the door and Maze goes to grab it, instead of a mailman or whatever, the daughter of Joe Fields stands at the door, gun in hand.

Chloe hears Mazikeen sigh before she kicks her in the hand, grabbing the gun as it spins in the air and pulling it safely into her hands, “Chloe!”

The Detective eyes Maze appreciatively, “Thanks Maze.”

“No problem, I’ve gotta get to my interview but, call me if there’s an issue.” She says and hands her the gun.

“Alright, good luck.” 

Learning that Joe Fields was _set_ up, that her real father’s killer was still out there really made her _mad,_ blinding white _rage,_ coursing through her veins. At the injustice of it all.

But why did he smile at her? Why the daughter of the man he killed?

* * *

Dan is not having the best day in existence, but it sure as hell beats Chloe’s, his finger hovers over the call button.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he _needs_ Lucifer’s help.

“Hey man, um, I need some help, apparently this guy is connected to the gang and you’re probably shady enough to help out.” Dan rushes out.

There’s a pregnant pause and then the voice that comes out is definitely _not_ Lucifers, “Sorry dude, Lucifer’s in the shower right now, I can tell him that though.”

“Sorry, who are you?” He’s instantly suspicious, because he _truly_ doesn’t think that Lucifer would willingly allow anyone to touch his phone.

“Sam Winchester, I’m Mr Morningstar’s new bartender, he’s just showing me the ropes, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah-”

“Hello Detective Douche, how are you?” Lucifer’s voice sounds over the line, enunciating the douche.

He internally sighs, “Did Sam tell you?”

“Yes, and I would be _delighted_ to help you, it has something to do with Chloe’s case correct?”

“Yeah, Joe Fields was the murderer of Chloe’s father, but, now it seems that he might not have, they’ve been payed money to take the fall for others.”

“That’s why she’s been so upset all day? Well, I best be on my way, what is your location?”

“The Police Station.” He says and hangs up, he wouldn’t put it past Lucifer to talk to him and drive.

He barely has to wait 10 minutes before Lucifer’s signature car, the ’62 Corvette, pulls up out the front, he hops in and rattles off the bath house address. “Alright, you gotta be chill though, this dude, he spooks easily.”

“Don’t worry Detective Douche, I know how to make people like me.”

“Yeah, only when you want.”

Lucifer chuckles as they speed along.

Pulling up right in front of it is not a good idea but he has to admit, it _does_ make them a lot more prestigious.

Lucifer hardly seems like the type to be shy, and quickly strips down to the basics before losing them too, Dan manages to look away before seeing _too_ much.

But, he can’t fail to notice the crescent like scars on his shoulder-blades – horrific burn scars, if he was crazy, he’d say that wings would reside there normally.

It helps him understand the persona of Lucifer Morningstar a little bit more, if he grew up in a household with too many brothers and religious parents, well, it certainly meant that he probably faced abuse.

Like he keeps on talking about his father so angrily.

But he doesn’t say anything, because that would be impolite, and most victims play the blame game, on themselves.

Boris is surprisingly easy to convince to assassinate Lucifer.

Dan would think he is a good actor if it weren’t for the faint trembling of his shoulders.


	9. 真夜中 // mdnght

Sam doesn’t know _what_ to think, like, how is the Devil this kind in this universe?

Actually, he knows the answer to that, it probably lies within the amount of freedom he was offered by God.

Which is odd, certainly refreshing, but, odd.

This apartment is _way_ to lavish for him, he’s been crashing on this Lucifer’s lounge because he doesn’t want to intrude any more than he already has.

He knows 30 different cocktails in rum, Absinthe, brandy, gin, tequila, vodka, whiskey hell, even sake.

And those are just the cocktails, it’s more than he’s ever heard of in his _life._

Although, now he kind of knows how to make a purple nurple.

“Aww Sammy, never knew you cared,” Dean says next to him except _not Dean not Dean NOT DEAN._

“Come on Sammy, you can’t ignore me forever.” Hallucifer says next to him, swinging his legs off the piano.

“You’re not real.” He says loud and clearly.

Hallucifer shrugs, “Sure, I’m not real, but that doesn’t stop me from annoying the _fuck_ out of you. Oops.” He covers his mouth, “I said a naughty word Sammy.”

He ignores Hallucifer, usually he goes away after he realises that Sam’s not paying attention to him because while Castiel transferred the crazies onto himself, he didn’t take Hallucifer away.

That’s impossible.

There’s too much hell trauma for him to simply leave, and let him live a peaceful life. The time spent in hell amounts to more than 10 times his actual age.

He sighs, head in hands, Sam has been researching the supernatural and it seems that there _are_ none in this universe, however, L.A. has had a few degrees increase, with what Sam guesses were Lucifer’s initial visits.

And now, well, it’s slightly hotter.

“Yes, it seems that _this_ Lucifer burns hot, doesn’t he? What a shame, you two could’ve had so much _fun_ together.” Hallucifer comments, icy fingertips trailing down his arms.

He shivers, the only visible response to his tirade.

So, he keeps digging up information on Lucifer, and Mazikeen, because a demon isn’t great to have as a pet, though, she seems… different, loyal whereas most demons he met wanted chaos and destruction.

And she wasn’t possessing a body so, that was a plus.

Though it certainly raised the question of whether _all_ demons were as loyal as her, or if they were simply humans with different agendas.

The new sleek phone Lucifer bought him dings and he glances down, “Tied up with work, ask Jerome to get you started.”

“He had to get bored with you eventually.” Hallucifer laughs.

Sam sighs and tugs at the dark tie around his neck, the outfit was uniform, apparently, though he had a feeling Lucifer only said that because he _had_ no clothes, well, aside from his jeans and flannel shirt which weren’t classy enough for Lucifer.

“Here goes nothing.” He sighs and enters the elevator.

Jerome, he learns, is easy-going and happy to have him on board, “We needed a new bartender. After Maze and the boss had a falling out, she quit.”

“Huh.” Still loyal but not? “You sound like you know all the gossip.”

“Of course, you can’t bartend without picking up some things.”

He wipes down the bench and glances at the digital clock, “Almost opening time?”

“Yeah.” Jerome says, “Bouncers’ going to start letting ‘em in soon. Now, don’t worry if people hit on you, securities on standby, although… You look like the kinda guy that can take care of himself.”

He gives a self-deprecating snort. “You sure couldn’t when you were with me.” Hallucifer whispers silkily in his ear. Shivering he subtly moves away from the cold breath on his neck.

Not 10 minutes later, a steady stream of clubbers make their way into the club, decked in their finest, Sam thinks them more like stuffed peacocks ready to be put on display.

He can definitely do this.


	10. 末路 // fate

It’s nice to learn why the detective is upset, but he wishes that she’d taken them up on the offer on professional torture.

This scumbag…

All for the money. The power! If his father wanted proof that humans were not worth bowing down to, it was in front of him!

The way that some of them betrayed their brethren, they lied, stole, and murdered one another for money and prestige. There was little to be proud of such a creation who would sooner murder in cold blood, one of their own then they would to offer themselves to God in an act of submission.

He was sick and tired of playing a part in his father’s plans when so much of the time, they were dependent on the stupidly _human_ lives of those he was surrounded by.

Such as Samuel Winchester, the man was clearly unhinged, clearly sent here by his father but the question was why? Was is to teach him a lesson for the misgivings of another Lucifer? To show him how things could have been?

There’s too many unknowns for him to be certain of the man’s purpose.

(Although, having him here has definitely been enough for him to forget about the nuances of Linda knowing and rejecting him)

One thing he can ascertain though, is that the man is ridiculously strong, to be able to withstand hell and only come out _slightly_ unhinged is more so than he can say for most of the unfortunate souls that get dredged from the cesspool of human activity.

Malcolm is unfortunately the perfect example, and yet Samuel does not display any features of such a fate, it is most peculiar.

It’s late at night, the bar is close to finishing and Lucifer can see that Sam seems exhausted, “Come on then, your shift ends now.”

Sam raises an eyebrow at him, “I thought I had to stick around for clea-”

“Another time, perhaps, we have much to discuss, I believe.” Lucifer says and turns heel, beckoning for the man to follow him, Lucifer is glad he had him fitted for a suit because the black with green accents truly suits him, though, the hair is a bit of a turn off.

They enter the penthouse, Lucifer making a bee-line for his personal bar, “Would you care for a drink? It would probably make this easier.”

Sam shakes his head and clears his throat, “Just water please.”

“Alright then.” He murmurs, pouring himself a few fingers of scotch before bringing the bottle with him, along with a glass of water for Sam. “Now, Sam, would you care to explain how things happen in your universe, it might help me find a way for you to get home.”

Sam nods and sits in silence for a few moments, “I don’t really know where to begin, to be honest, there’s a lot of differences between this world and mine.”

Taking a few more minutes, Sam begins, “First off, I’ve had a look at the local lore regarding… well you and uh, it’s not that different. The Lucifer I know… he was evicted from Heaven because he didn’t want to bow down to the humans, God put him in a Cage, it was constructed so that he could never escape. The Cage was in the deepest pits of hell. For a millennia, it remained untouched, unopened by anyone.

“And then, the angels, but mostly Raphael and Michael decided that because God hadn’t been in heaven for a _very_ long time that it was time to enact the plan of the Apocalypse. They carefully tweaked the bloodlines so that they’d end up with my brother and I, we were to be the two true vessels Michael and Lucifer were to duke it out in.”

“Wait, wait, wait, you’re telling my that in your universe, angels need _vessels_?” Lucifer asks, incredulous. “That has to be a logistical nightmare.”

“Yeah, so you’re _not_ possessing some random human?” Sam’s tone is all too accusing.

“Of course not!”

“Huh, to think, all of _that_ could have been avoided…”

“What happened after the angels decided they wanted an Apocalypse?” It was unlike the heavenly host to stop going after their true goal.

“Well, they _got_ the apocalypse, with Lucifer out of the cage, he just needed me to say yes so that he could fight Michael in their prized fight. The angels… they’re awful, nothing like the scriptures painted them. So, me, my brother and one angel who dragged Dean out of hell- fuck I keep on jumping over the place.” Sam throws a shaky hand through his hair. “To break Lucifer out of the cage, there were seals to break him out, like, the raising of a demon, the killing of reapers… stuff like that. But the most important two were the first and the last, without them, the seals wouldn’t matter. My brother made a demon deal, he sold his soul to resurrect me and then a year later when the hellhounds came for him… he went to hell.”

“So, not just you, but your brother has also been to hell?”

“Yeah… the first seal was broken ‘ _when a righteous man sheds blood in hell’_ my brother held out for forty years before turning the knife on another human.”

“And that’s how souls turn into demons? When they start torturing other souls?”

“Yeah, anyway, time runs much differently down there, one month equating to roughly a decade topside… Except for the Cage, time runs slower the closer you get to the bottom of Hell and uh…”

Lucifer doesn’t need him to elaborate to get the picture, “How did you manage to get this… other Lucifer back into the cage?”

“Well, with the help of Gabriel, we were able to find a way to reopen the cage – essentially, the four horseman of the Apocalypse’s rings are what can open the cage. And there was really only one way for Lucifer to get back into the Cage.”

That Gabriel sounded nothing like the one of this universe, the one from here was cold, calculated, ready to relay any necessary message.

“If you said yes…” Lucifer whispers, connecting the dots of the man’s hallucinations and everything else wrong with him.

“Mm.” Sam’s eyes become distant, surely reliving the details of that day.

“Well, my best guess is that either my Father brought you here or one of those… angels.”

“I doubt it would be one of the angels, they’re kind of in Civil War right now.” Sam admits. “After I took down Michael and Lucifer, some of the angels, headed by Raphael tried to reopen the Cage, the others… didn’t want that. So they fought, Castiel, he used the souls in Purgatory to become strong enough to defeat Raphael but… he managed to take in the Leviathans as well.”

“Disgusting little things, aren’t they?” If they were anything like this world’s… there was a reason they’d been locked up.

“Yup, it took a while, but we figured how to kill the leader and uh, Cas and Dean disappeared with him. And then I appeared here.”

“That sounds like a simplified version of events.”

“Yeah. I’ll have that drink now if the offer stands.”

“Of course, what’s your poison?”

“Beer if you have it.”

 By the time he’s procured the alcohol, he turns back to find Samuel missing, a frown marring his features, “Samuel?”

No response, he glances skyward and calls his mother, “Yes?”

“Did you… notice a power surge or something that would return Samuel to his universe?” Lucifer asks, taking a seat where the human had sat, it was still warm.

He can _hear_ the frown from her, “Perhaps, but I _always_ feel your father’s influence upon this world. I’ll visit you if you truly require it.”

“No, I think it’s okay.”

It had been… weird, to learn that not only was there another version of him, but one that had sought to destroy the world. And to think, a mere human brought down not one but _two_ archangels.

“What was the bloody point hmm? Was it to show me how much _worse_ you could have made things?” He leans against the balcony, staring off into the sky. “Did you wish to make that human relive his experience?”

There is no response, and Lucifer doubts there would ever be one, all he can hope is that the foolishly brave human can live a safe life, it was terrible to know what could have become of this universe if his dear ole dad had taken a few too many absences.

**

Sam jolts as he lands back to where he’d been transported from, the Impala, smelling exactly the same, the worn leather feeling like home beneath his shaking grasp, idly, he wonders whether he hallucinated the whole thing.

“Not even _I_ could come up with something that ridiculous, Sam.” Lucifer, in Nick’s vessel hisses from beside him and then grins, “Or maybe I could have, I doubt you’ll ever know.”

That’s probably true, he doubts he will ever know what it’s like to be clean, to be free of this Lucifer’s presence, to not have the millennium of knowledge on torture stuck within his brain.

But that’s just how life is, and he'll just have to learn how to deal with the knowledge that somewhere out there, he could have led a peaceful(ish) life, instead of being saddled with the trauma he is stuck with, permanently. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats it folks, this shit has been sitting in my inbox for as long as ive been following lucifer tbh so uh, yeah, its nice to finally get it all out. i hope you guys enjoyed, if there is anything really horridly wrong with it lemme know   
> aLsO, 末路 translates to fate but it also translates to last days so i thought it was appropriate what with all the apocalypse talk.


End file.
